Dashboard Confidential – February 2023
Sometimes, no matter how much planning and pre-planning you do, things take a turn for the weird and unusual. To borrow the quote from the Marines, “overcome, improvise and adapt” has helped steer me back on track when things go astray.
When I was doing the cool car gigs, I often did vintage and sports car tours. Taking a client’s often priceless cool car to some remote location so they can enjoy the car in a rally, leisurely ride-and-drive or race. Many times, the events last for several days. There is something quite incredible about watching the owner of a 1958 Ferrari Testa Rossa, valued at $25 million, slinging the car sideways in the S-curves at Laguna Seca Raceway.
On one particular trip, I picked up several late 1920s Packard touring cars for my client and his family to cruise around the Rocky Mountains in Colorado for a weeklong event.
My client booked me into the host hotel, The Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. A very beautiful resort, I was welcomed in, given a place to park and delivered my customer’s cars. They didn’t need me for the next five days, and I was free to relax, enjoy the resort and wait for them to return. Or so I thought.
My office called, and the boss asked if I wanted to make some money while I waited. A local collector had two vintage cars going to Reno that would go to another private collector, and then I was to go to the Reno Auto Museum, pick up two other vintage cars, and return to Colorado Springs.
Being it was summer, weather was not a problem, so I agreed. I was being paid waiting time, but this was an extra special treat. I grabbed the first pair of cars and headed for Reno.
My truck at the time was a 1980 Kenworth Aerodyne, Big Cam III 400 Cummins, 3:55 rears and a 15-speed Roadranger with the deep reduction splitter on the dash.
Suffice it to say, this truck was bloody FAST! The two cars didn’t weigh much, and I made serious time across the Rockies – until I got to the downside of Battle Mountain, Nev. A bad noise came from the drivetrain, and my good fortune took a turn for the worse. Stopping to assess the situation, it seemed the top gear (15th) was the problem. If I stayed out of 15th, no more noise.
I called Kenworth of Reno and said I would be there in the morning. They advised me that they had my transmission in stock, and they could get me in and do the swap.
I called my delivery customer, making arrangements to get rid of the first two cars. Calling my pickup customer, they agreed to an early morning meeting.
It all went like clockwork as I eased along at 52 miles per hour, nervous as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. Keeping a constant eye on my gauges, all temps ran normal, and there were no ugly drivetrain noises as long as I did not flip into 15th gear. I showed great restraint. Rolling into Reno, I delivered safe and sound, made no mention of my transmission issue, and went to Sierra Sid’s for dinner.
The next morning, I met my museum contact and loaded my two return cars and went straight away to my new best friends at Reno Kenworth.
True to their word, they pulled me into the shop bay and my tech got on it. I went to a nice hotel and chilled, hoping my pager did not go off. I had a cellphone at the time, but it was the size of a shoe box, and the brain was bolted into the side compartment of the truck.
I advised my office of the progress and waited. In the morning. My shop foreman called and said the truck had just come back from a road test and everything checked out fine. They had done my transmission swap overnight. I went to the dealer, paid the bill (which, if I remember correctly, was right at $10,000), hooked up to my trailer and got ready to roll.
The truck performed flawlessly, and I made great time back to Colorado Springs, counting my lucky stars the whole way. I called my customer, met him at his location the next morning and delivered safe and sound. I made no mention of my adventures in “Transmission Land.”
Easing back down to The Broadmoor Hotel, I parked in my designated spot as if I had never moved. Back in my room, a quick shower and … the phone rang. It was my Packard tour clients. They would meet me at the truck to load up in an hour, as they were on their way back in. While I was doing my job, they told me about their trip and kidded me about laying around for five days and how bored I must be. I made no mention of my adventures in Transmission Land to them either.
Call it blind dumb luck, a piece of good fortune, or payback for something good in a previous life, I was very fortunate. And the extra trip to Reno and back worked out that it paid the $10,000 bill with pennies to spare.
Happy trails. LL